All was pleasant ease at the house of Sir William Johnson, from which
the stateliness of his manner did not at all detract; for, when
blended with perfect courtesy, as an Irishman, perhaps better than any
man, can blend it, stateliness does not imply restraint.
The conference with the Indians had not ended until too late an hour
for Mr. Prevost and his companions to return to his dwelling on the
day when it took place; and, as Walter was not expected with the
answers to Lord H----'s despatches for at least two days more, the
party were not unwilling to prolong their stay till the following
morning. Several of the guests, indeed, who were proceeding to Albany
direct, set out at once for their destination, certain of reaching the
well-inhabited parts of the country before nightfall; and it was at
one time proposed to send a letter by them to young Walter Prevost,
directing him to join his father at the Hall.
The inconveniences which so frequently ensue upon deranging plans
already fixed caused this scheme to be rejected; and while her father,
Lord H----, and their host, wandered forth for an hour or two along
the banks of the beautiful Mohawk, Edith remained at the Hall, not
without hope of seeing Otaitsa present herself with some intelligence.
The Indian girl, however, did not appear, and gloomy thoughts thronged
fast upon poor Edith. She strove to banish them; she schooled herself
in regard to the folly of anticipating evils only possible; but who
ever mastered completely those internal warnings of coming peril or
woe which as often come to cloud our brightest days, as to darken the
gloom of an already tempestuous sky. Edith's chief companion was an
old lady, nearly related to Sir William, but very deaf and very
silent; and she had but small relief in conversation.
In the meantime, the three gentlemen and a young _aide-de-camp_
pursued their way amongst the neat farmhouses and mechanics' shops
which had gathered round the Hall. Mr. Prevost gave way to thoughts
apparently as gloomy as those which haunted his daughter, but in
reality not so; for his was a mind of a discursive character, which
was easily led by collateral ideas far away from any course which it
was at first pursuing; and, though he had awoke that morning full of
the considerations which had engaged him during the preceding day, he
was now busily calculating the results of the meeting which had just
been held, and arriving at conclusions more just than were reached by
many of the great statesmen and politicians of the time.
Lord H----, on his part, paid no little attention to the demeanour and
all the proceedings of their host. The character of his mind was the
exact reverse of that of Mr. Prevost, attaching itself keenly to one
object, and being turned from its contemplation with difficulty. His
thoughts still dwelt upon the consequences which were likely to ensue
from the death of the Oneida by the hands of Captain Brooks, without
anything like alarm, indeed, but with careful forethought for those
who, in a few short days, had won for themselves a greater share of
the warm affections which lay hidden in his heart than he often
bestowed upon any one.
As they quitted the door of the house, a mere trifle called his
attention to something peculiar in the conduct of Sir William Johnson,
and led him to believe that the mind of that officer was not
altogether at ease, notwithstanding the favourable result of the
meeting with the Indians.
After they had taken a step or two on their way, Sir William paused
suddenly, turned back, and ordered a servant to run up to the top of
the hill, and there watch till he returned.
"Mark well which paths they take," he said, without specifying the
persons of whom he spoke, "and let me hear if you see anything
peculiar."
The man seemed to understand him perfectly; and Lord H---- watched
everything with the utmost attention. In the course of their ramble,
not less than nine or ten persons came up at different times, and
spoke a word or two to Sir William Johnson. First a negro, then a
soldier, then an Irish servant, then another white man, but with
features of a strongly-marked Indian character. Each seemed to give
some information in a few words uttered in a low tone, and each
departed as soon as he had spoken, some with a brief answer, some with
none.
The evening which succeeded their walk passed somewhat differently
from the preceding one. Fewer persons were present; the conversation
was more general and intimate, and Sir William Johnson, seating Edith
at the old-fashioned instrument which, in those days, supplied the
lack of pianofortes, asked for a song which, it seems, he had heard
her sing before. She complied without any hesitation, with sufficient
skill and management of her voice to show that she had been well
taught, but with tones so rich, so pure, and so melodious, that every
sound in the room was instantly hushed, and Lord H---- approached
nearer and nearer to listen.
Music, I suppose, may be considered as the highest language--the
language of the heart and spirit. Mere words can only reach or convey
a very limited class of ideas, the distinct and the tangible; but
music can convey the fine, the indistinct, the intangible shades of
feeling and of thought which escape all other means of expression. It
is only, however, to those who understand the language; but Lord
H---- was full, not only of the love, but of the science of music; and
he drew closer and closer to Edith, as she sang, and, at length, hung
over her, with his face turned away from the other guests in the room,
and bearing, written on it, feelings which he hardly yet knew were in
his heart.
Sir William Johnson was standing on the other side of the beautiful
girl's chair; and, as she concluded one of the stanzas, he raised his
eyes suddenly to the face of Lord H----, with a look of great
satisfaction. What he saw there made him start, and then smile, for
the characters written on the nobleman's countenance were too plain to
be mistaken, and Sir William, who was not without his share of worldly
wisdom, at once divined that Edith Prevost was likely to be a peeress
of England.
"What a fine musician she is!" exclaimed the older general to Lord
H----, after he had conducted Edith to her former seat, but before the
enthusiasm had subsided; "one would hardly expect to find such music
in these wild woods of America."
"She is all music," said Lord H----, in an absent tone, and then
added, rousing himself, "but you must not attribute such powers and
such perfections, altogether, to America, Sir William, for I find that
Miss Prevost was educated in Europe."
"Only till she was fourteen," replied the other; "but they are
altogether a most remarkable family. If ever girl was perfect, it is
herself. Her father, though somewhat too much given to dream, is a man
of singular powers of mind; and her brother Walter, whom I look upon
almost as a son, is full of high and noble qualities and energies,
which, if he lives, will certainly lead him on to greatness."
"I think so," returned Lord H----. And there the conversation dropped
for the time.
The rest of the evening passed without any incident of notice; and by
daybreak on the following morning the whole household were on foot. An
early breakfast was ready for the travellers, and nothing betrayed
much anxiety on the part of their host, till the very moment of their
departure. As they were about to set forth, however, and just when
Edith appeared in her riding-habit, or Amazon, as it was then called,
and the hat, with large floating ostrich plumes, usually worn at that
time by ladies when on horseback--looking lovely enough, it is true,
to justify any compliment--Sir William took her by the hand, saying,
with a gay and courteous air,--
"I am going to give you a commission, my fair Hippolyta, which is
neither more nor less than the command of half-a-dozen dragoons, whom
I wish to go with you for a portion of the way, partly to exercise
their horses on a road, which is marvellously cleared of stumps and
stones, for this part of the country, partly to examine what is going
on a little to the north-east, and partly to bring me the pleasant
intelligence that you have gone, at least half way to your home in
safety."
Lord H---- looked in his face in silence, and Edith turned a little
pale, but said nothing. Mr. Prevost, however, went directly to the
point, saying, "You know of some danger, my good friend; you had
better inform us of all the particulars, in order that we may be upon
our guard."
"None whatever, Prevost," answered Sir William, "except the general
perils of inhabiting an advanced spot on the frontiers of a savage
people, especially when anything has occurred to offend them. You know
what we talked about yesterday morning. The Oneidas do not easily
forgive; and, in this case, they will not forgive. But I have every
reason to believe that they have taken their way homeward for the
present. My people traced them a good way to the west, and it is only
from some chance stragglers that there is any danger."
Mr. Prevost mused, without moving to the door, which was opened for
them to depart, and then said, in a meditating kind of tone, "I do not
think they will attack any large party, Sir William, even when
satisfied that they cannot get hold of the man who has incensed them.
These Indians are a very cunning people, and they often satisfy even
their notions of honour by an artifice, especially when two duties, as
they consider them, are in opposition to one another. Depend upon it,
after what passed yesterday, they will commit no act of national
hostility against England. They are pledged to us, and will not break
their pledge. They will attack no large party, nor slay any Englishman
in open strife, though they may kidnap some solitary individual, and,
according to their curious notions of atonement, make him a formal
sacrifice, in expiation of the blood shed by another."
"You know the Indians well, Prevost," said Sir William Johnson,
gravely; "marvellously well, considering the short time you have been
amongst them."
"I have had little else to do than to study them," responded the
other, "and the subject is one of great interest. But do you think I
am wrong in the view I take, my good friend?"
"Quite the contrary," replied Sir William, "and that is the reason I
send the soldiers with you. A party of eight or ten will be perfectly
secure; and I would certainly advise that, for the next two or three
months, or till this unlucky dog, Brooks, or Woodchuck as he is
called, has been captured, no one should go any distance from his home
singly. Such a party as yours might be large enough. I am not sure
that my lord's red coat, which I am happy to see he has got on to-day,
might not be sufficient protection; for they will not risk anything
which they themselves deem an act of hostility against the English
government. Still, the soldiers will make the matter more secure till
you have passed the spot where there is any chance of their being
found. I repeat, I know of no peril; but I would fain guard against
all, where a fair lady is concerned." And he bowed gracefully to
Edith.
Little more was said; and taking leave of their host, Mr. Prevost's
party mounted their horses, and set out, followed by a corporal's
guard of dragoons, a small body of which corps was then stationed in
the province of New York, although, from the nature of the country in
which hostilities had hitherto been carried on, small opportunity had
as yet been afforded them of showing their powers against an enemy.
Nor would there have been any very favourable opportunity for so doing
in the present instance, even had Mr. Prevost and his companions been
attacked; for though the road they had to travel was broad and open,
compared to an ordinary Indian trail, yet, except at one or two
points, it was hemmed in with impervious forests, where the action of
cavalry would be quite impossible, and under the screen of which a
skilful marksman might bring down his man, himself unperceived.
Sir William Johnson was nevertheless sincere in saying that he
believed the very sight of the English soldiers would be quite
sufficient protection. The Indians, he knew right well, would avoid
anything like a struggle or a contest, and would more especially take
care not to come into collision of any kind with the troops of their
British allies. It was likely that they would depend entirely upon
cunning to obtain a victim wherewith to appease their vengeance; but
on this probability he did not choose altogether to rely. He saw his
friends depart, however, with perfect confidence, as the soldiers went
with them; and they proceeded without seeing a single human being
after they quitted his settlement, till they reached the shores of the
small lake near which they had halted on their previous journey, and
where they again dismounted to take refreshment.
It was a very pleasant spot, and well fitted for a resting-place; nor
was repose altogether needless, though the distance already travelled
was not great either for man or horse. But the day was exceedingly
oppressive, like one of those which come in what is called the Indian
summer, when the weather, after many a frosty day, becomes suddenly
sultry, as if in the middle of June, and the air is loaded with thin
yellow vapour, well deserving the term of "smoky," usually given to it
on the western side of the Atlantic. Yet there was no want of air; the
wind blew from the south-east, but there was no freshness on the
breeze. It was like the Sirocco, taking away strength and firmness
from all it breathed upon; and the horses, after being freed from the
burden they bore, stood for several minutes with bent heads and
heaving sides, without attempting to crop the forest grass beneath the
trees.
Thus repose was sweet, and the look of the little lake was cool and
refreshing. The travellers lingered there somewhat after the hour at
which they had proposed to depart, and it was the negro who took care
of the luggage who first warned them of the waning of the day.
"Massa forget," he said, "sun go early to bed in October. Twelve mile
to go yet, and road wuss nor dis."
"True, true," replied Mr. Prevost, rising. "We had better go on, my
lord, for it is now past two, and we shall barely reach home by
daylight. I really think, corporal," he continued, turning to the
non-commissioned officer, who had been seated with his men hard by,
enjoying some of the good things of life, "that we need not trouble
you to go farther. There is no trace of any Indians, or indeed of any
human beings, in the forest, but ourselves. Had there been so, my good
friend Chundo, here, would have discovered it, for he knows their
tracks as well as any of their own people."
"Dat I do, massa," replied the negro, to whom he pointed. "No Ingin
pass dis road since yesterday, I swear."
"My orders were to go to the big blazed Basswood-tree, sir, four miles
farther," observed the soldier, in a firm but respectful tone, "and I
must obey orders."
"You are right," said Lord H----, pleased with the man's demeanour.
"What is your name, corporal?"
"Clithero, my lord," replied the man, with a military
salute--"Corporal Clithero."
Lord H---- bowed his head; and the party, remounting, pursued their
way. The road, however, as the negro had said, was more difficult in
advance than it had been nearer to Sir William Johnson's settlement,
and it took the whole party an hour to reach the great Basswood-tree,
which had been mentioned, and which was marked out from the rest of
the forest by three large marks upon the bark, hewn by some surveyor's
axe when the road had been laid out. There the party stopped for a
moment or two, and with a few words of thanks, Mr. Prevost and his
companions parted from their escort.
"How dim the air along the path is!" ejaculated Lord H----, looking
on; "and yet the sun, getting to the west, is shining right down it
through the valley. One could almost imagine it was filled with
smoke."
"This is what we call a smoky day in America," replied Mr. Prevost;
"but I never knew the Indian summer come on us with such a wind."
No more was said on that matter at the time; and, as the road grew
narrower, Mr. Prevost and the negro, as best acquainted with the way,
rode first, while Lord H---- followed by Edith's side, conversing with
her in quiet and easy tones; but with words which sometimes caused the
colour to vary a little in her cheek.
These words were not exactly words of love. Write them down, and they
might have very little meaning--less application; but all things have
such a harmony throughout the universe, that everything separated from
its accessories means nothing, or worse than nothing. His tones, I
have said, were low and easy; but they were tender, too. His words
were not words of love, but they had a fire in them that nothing but
love could give; and the contrast between the low, easy tone, and that
rich, glowing language, added all that was needful to give them the
meaning of the heart, rather than the meaning of dictionaries. He
spoke of her singing the night before, and of music in general; he
spoke of the beauties of the scenery, the tints of the landscape; he
spoke of the old world and the new, and society and solitude. But it
mattered not; whatever he spoke of, he thought of Edith Prevost, and
there was something that showed her he did so.
Thus they went on for some four miles farther; and the evening was
evidently closing round them rapidly, though no ray had yet passed
from the sky. Suddenly Mr. Prevost drew in his rein, saying, in a low
but distinct voice to the negro, "What is that crossing the road?"
"No Ingin," cried the negro, whose eyes had been constantly bent
forward.
"Surely there is smoke drifting across the path," said Mr. Prevost,
"and I think I smell it also."
"I have thought so for some time," said Lord H----, who was now close
to them with Edith. "Are fires common in these woods?"
"Not very," answered Mr. Prevost, "but the season has been unusually
dry. Good heavens! I hope my fears are not prophetic: I've been
thinking all day of what would become of the Lodge if the forest were
to take fire."
"We had better ride on as fast as possible," said the nobleman; "for
then, if the worst happens, we may be able to save some of your
property."
"We must be cautious, we must be cautious," returned the other in a
thoughtful tone. "Fire is a capricious element, and often runs in
directions the least expected. I have heard of people getting so
entangled in a burning wood as not to be able to escape."
"O yes," cried the negro; "when I were little boy, I remember quite
well, Massa John Bostock, and five other men wid him, git in pine wood
behind Albany, and it catch fire. He run here and dere, but it git all
round him, and roast him up black as I be. I saw dem bring in what dey
fancied was he, but it no better dan a great pine stump."
"If I remember," observed Lord H----, "we passed a high hill somewhere
near this spot where we had a fine clear view over the whole of the
woody region round. We had better make for that at once. The fire
cannot yet have reached it, if my remembrance of the distance is
correct; for though the wind sets towards us, the smoke is as yet
anything but dense. It may be miles off, even beyond your house."
"Pray God it be so!" ejaculated Mr. Prevost, spurring forward; "but I
fear it is nearer."
The rest followed as quickly as the stumps and the fallen trees would
let them; and at the distance of half a mile began the ascent of the
hill to which Lord H---- had alluded. As far as that spot the smoke
had been growing denser and denser every moment; apparently pouring
along the valley formed by that hill and another on the left, through
which valley, let it be remarked, the small river in which Walter had
been seen fishing by Sir William Johnson, but now a broad and very
shallow stream, took its course onwards toward the Mohawk. As they
began to ascend, however, the smoke decreased, and Edith exclaimed,
joyfully,--
"I hope, dear father, the fire is farther to the north."
"We shall see, we shall see," said Mr. Prevost, still pushing his
horse forward. "The sun is going down fast; and a little haste will be
better on all accounts."
In about five minutes more the summit of the hill was reached, at a
spot where, in laying out two roads which crossed each other there,
the surveyors had cleared away a considerable portion of the wood,
leaving, as Lord H---- had said, a clear view over the greater part of
the undulating forest country, lying in the angle formed by the upper
Hudson and the Mohawk. Towns have now risen up; villages are scattered
over the face of the land; rich fields of wheat and maize, gardens,
orchards, and peaceful farmhouses, greet the eye wherever it is
turned from the summit of that hill; but it was different then. With
the few exceptions of a small pond or lake, a rushing stream, or a
natural savanna of a few hundred acres, it was all forest; and the
only sign of man's habitation which could be descried at any time was
the roof and chimneys of Mr. Prevost's house, which, in general, could
be discerned rising above the trees, upon an eminence a good deal
lower than the summit which the travellers had reached. Now, however,
the house could not be seen.
The sight which the country presented was a fine but a terrible one.
On the one side, the sun, with his lower limb just dipped beneath the
forest, was casting up floods of many-coloured light, orange and
purple, gold, and even green, upon the light fantastic clouds
scattered over the western sky; while above, some fleecy vapours,
fleeting quickly along, were all rosy with the touch of his beams.
Onward to the east and north, filling up the whole valley between the
hill on which they stood, and the eminence crowned by Mr. Prevost's
house, and forming an almost semi-circular line, of some three or four
miles in extent, was a dense, reddish-brown cloud of smoke, marking
where the fire raged, and softening off at each extreme into a bluish
grey. No general flame could be perceived through this heavy cloud;
but, ever and anon, a sudden flash would break across it, not bright
and vivid, but dull and half obscured, when the fierce element got
hold of some of the drier and more combustible materials of the
forest. Once or twice, too, suddenly, at one point of the line or
another, a single tree, taller, perhaps, than the rest, or more
inflammable, or garmented in a. thick matting of dry vine, would catch
the flame, and burst forth from the root to the topmost branch like a
tall column of fire; and here and there, too, from what cause I know
not--perhaps, from an accumulation of dry grass and withered leaves,
seized upon by the fire and wind together--a volley of bright sparks
would mingle with the cloud of smoke, and be thrown up, for a moment,
to the westward.
It was a grand, but an awful, spectacle; and, as Mr. Prevost gazed
upon it, thoughts and feelings crowded into his bosom, which even
Edith herself could not estimate.